


Six and Three Quarters

by MissMartine



Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-06-07
Packaged: 2018-11-10 02:25:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11117946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissMartine/pseuds/MissMartine
Summary: It's been six and three quarters years since they first fell in love, and now they can't say it enough. Set in late season 7.





	Six and Three Quarters

“I should tell you once for every day that I didn’t,” he says sultry into her neck, his lips finding her pulse, matching its beat with the intensity of his kiss. “Every day for the past, hmmm, six and three quarters years.”

She laughs, arches her neck toward his mouth, lets him sweep her away with his words and his passion. Her full-throated laughter lights up chains of neurons in his brain that he didn’t know he had. Scully in love is Scully unburdened. The past six and three quarters years suddenly have more purpose, in bringing them to this point, and at the same time are shedding away, lost in the face of how purposeful their partnership is now. 

She thought she loved him before? That was nothing compared to actually kissing this man, twining her arms around his neck when she wants to, knowing he’ll respond in equal, ardent kind. Before this was nothing, compared to coming home to him and making dinner with him and making love to him. In bed, or on the floor in front of the fireplace, or up against the kitchen counter if they can’t wait until after dinner. Waiting all this time makes “after dinner” seem far too long now, more often than not. She has a new and special fondness for her kitchen counter.

Loving him before was nothing, compared to saying it to him now. She can’t get enough. Like touching him, the words feed her in a way that food can’t. First thing in the morning, last thing at night, all those little times during the day when it bubbles up and spills out of her lips, flowing as naturally as the scientific explanations she gives him, as if she’s been rehearsing for it all along. It is like a scientific explanation, she tells herself in a moment of unrestrained giddiness, for everything that is happening in her, the currently evolving nature of some new Scully, never before identified. It’s like an X-File, he teases her, a little bit paranormal, but nothing they can’t get to the bottom of.

“I love you, Scully,” he whispers, now against the fold of her ear, now into the softness of her hair, now laid out upon any bare skin she offers him.

“I can’t believe I didn’t appreciate it the first time you said those words,” she frets, but gives in to the lull of his kiss, slow and measured at first, then so frantic that even the fiercest of lips and teeth and tongues aren’t enough, and they bend themselves together until their bodies cannot possibly be any closer.

“I love you,” he says as he pushes into her, their eyes searching each other’s; “I love you,” he whimpers as she pulls him to the edge. “I love you,” she replies before words escape her and they come together, hard, like they’ve been waiting six and three quarters years for this.

“I love you, Mulder,” she whispers once more before they fall asleep. She feels loosened, from the stoicism that’s kept her in place for so long and so far away from the happiness she’s living now. She is tethered to something new. That live, beautiful world inside her, just waiting to be discovered.

“I love you too, Scully.” Before sleep, and every time he gets the chance. Six and three quarters years since he first felt the words on the tip of his tongue, and he is as good as his word.


End file.
